


I think I'm Angry Still

by olivebranchesandredwine



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Angry Sex, Canon Queer Relationship, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, M/M, Patrick Brewer is Thirsty, Public Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 12:08:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20407513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivebranchesandredwine/pseuds/olivebranchesandredwine
Summary: “David,” Patrick spoke his name like an accusation, his voice spiteful, angry. David didn’t like it. Especially when the muscles of Patrick’s forearms were rippling as he tensed. God, David would do really stupid things for those forearms.David and Patrick are stubborn and angry, and things escalate. Set sometime after the end of S5.





	I think I'm Angry Still

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Garbage, "Push It" 
> 
> Also, as always, unbetaed and barely edited, because careless is my jam. Unless, you know, you wanna offer to be my beta.

“You still aren’t listening to me. _You NEVER LISTEN!” _David’s shrill voice echoed through the shop, as he stomped over toward the cash. He wished he was wearing anything _but _his Rick Owens high-tops right now, something clompy and loud that matched his mood.

“David, just _stop. _You’re being ridiculous.” Patrick snapped at his fiancé as he spritzed the produce.“You’re the one who went behind _my_ back. What the fuck did you expect would happen?” He glared across the room at David as he sprayed, noticing only belatedly that the organic carrots and turnips were now dripping wet. He slammed the spritz bottle onto the table and stormed behind the counter for a towel. “Don’t even—,“ he challenged.

“I went behind your back because you were _deliberately antagonizing her_. I was trying to smooth things over!” David practically spat back at him, his whole body moving as he gesticulated wildly. “She’s the best, Patrick, and I’m not going to go with some cut-rate contractor on this project just because my partner is too bull-headed to let things go.”

Patrick let the towel fall to the floor, mouth open, and just stared. David watched his eyes flicker, his jaw clench, and he knew he’d struck a nerve, even if it hadn’t been intentional.

“Your _partner, _huh?” Patrick let his gaze drop to the floor in front of him, lips curling into an angry snarl of smile.

David didn’t like that look on Patrick’s face; didn’t like that tone of his voice. “Sweetheart, you _know _I didn’t mean it like…._that_, right?” He felt his voice shake as he tried to soothe Patrick, and frankly, it pissed him off. _Why does he get to be angry, _David thought to himself. _I’m not the one who fucked up. _As much as he hated to see his fiancé upset, he didn’t want to fall back into their usual pattern, him soothing Patrick’s fragile ego, especially when _Patrick _was the one being irrational. This wasn’t about something silly; it was about their _business. _And if the roles were reversed, Patrick sure as hell would’ve done the same thing. In fact, he _had _done that back with Roland’s microbrew idea. Which, in retrospect, David had to admit was the right call, ridiculous name aside. The Rose Brew IPA had been a big hit since they started carrying it. Granted, David wouldn’t touch something brewed by Roland Schitt with a ten foot pole, but the locals seemed to love it.

“_Sweetheart_, David?” Patrick’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “that seems a little familiar for business partners, don’t you think? Shouldn’t you be a little more professional at work?” He was teasing, but there was an unfamiliar bite to his words. Patrick’s whole body had tensed up—forearms flexing, jaw clenched, eye narrowed—as he stood there, just staring at David from the other side of the store. A challenge.

“Patrick…” David sighed, rolling his eyes in exasperation, “now who’s being ridiculous?” OK, so if his options in the moment were to diffuse the situation to or give back just as good as he got? David was ready to rumble. He leaned against the candle shelving unit, crossed his own arms, and glared back, his nostrils flaring. _Game_ fucking _on._

For the next couple minutes, time stopped as they stood there, each silently daring the other to speak, to make a move, to do _something._

_Ding ding…_ At the sound of the shop bell, both men turned to the door to see Stevie walking in. Noticing the tension in the room, she held up both hands as though she were trying to calm an angry velociraptor. “Um, I’ll come back later,” she said quietly, nervously eyeing David as she backed toward the door, “if that’s alright.” David gave his friend the tiniest of nods, while Patrick started moving toward her, walking her back through the door. As soon as she was out, he flipped the sign to Closed and locked the door before turning to lean against it, hands resting on his hips. Once again, he faced David, eyes clouded with anger, his whole body tense.

“David,” Patrick spoke his name like an accusation, his voice spiteful, angry. David didn’t like it. Especially when the muscles of Patrick’s forearms were rippling as he tensed. _God_, David would do really stupid things for those forearms. His dick twitched in his jeans; it didn’t care that David was mad at Patrick. _Fuck_.

David stalked toward his fiancé, crowding him up against the door, both arms still crossed protectively at his chest. “Yes, Patrick,” he drawled before sucking his lips between his teeth and raising a defiant eyebrow, waiting for Patrick’s next move.

_There it was. _The flicker.

When Patrick’s eyes darted to his mouth, David surged forward, his hands grabbing either side of Patrick’s head, pulling him in for a bruising kiss. He sucked lightly on Patrick’s bottom lip, then took it between his teeth and bit down, eliciting a tiny, breathless “unf” and spurring David on. He thrust his tongue into Patrick’s mouth, deep and hard; he dug his fingernails into Patrick’s nape. He wanted to leave marks; he wanted to make Patrick whimper; he wanted to fuck the sarcastic smile off his face and make him forget his name.

Caught off guard by David’s onslaught, at first Patrick just stood there, still fuming, but now slightly dazed, as David kissed him against the door. But then, something _clicked_—maybe it was his body acting on sheer muscle memory, maybe it was his confused, hardening cock—and then Patrick was kissing back, greedily sucking on David’s tongue, his hands on David’s ass to pull him closer. He slotted a thigh between David’s legs and rocked his hips, groaning into David’s mouth.

Satisfied at Patrick’s eager response, David broke off the kiss and pulled back, inordinately pleased as as his horny fiancé leaned forward, chasing his mouth and body until he stumbled. “Are you going to apologize?” David sneered.

Patrick looked up at David with those wide, puppy-dog eyes, now half-lidded and dark with arousal, and shook his head slightly, as if willing everything to come back into focus. _God_, David loved that Patrick was still so fucking into him, years into their relationship, loved that he could still make this beautiful asshole _breathless_ with desire with a fucking _kiss._

He also loved that this beautiful asshole was enough of a competitive jerk that he wouldn’t back down so easily.

“Fuck, David,” Patrick growled, those puppy-dog eyes now going even darker with suddenly remembered rage. This time, it was Patrick who grabbed for David’s head, fingers tangling into his dark hair as he rushed forward, slamming his body into David’s. He tugged back on David’s carefully coifed hair, pulling his head to expose more of his throat. Patrick bit down _hard_ at a decidedly unprofessional spot near David’s Adam’s apple, and then sucked wildly, having gone nearly feral with the sudden need to visibly claim David as _his._

David’s arms snaked around Patrick’s back so that he could slip his fingers inside the waistband of his jeans. Rather than pulling Patrick toward him, though, David crowded forward into Patrick’s space until, once again, his back was pressed against the glass of the door. David moved his head to the side, tearing away from Patrick’s mouth so that he could lick along the shell of Patrick’s ear, then take the lobe between his teeth. He rocked his hips and squeezed Patrick’s thigh between his own, relishing in the friction, relishing in the heat of his fiancé’s thickness pressing against him. David slid both hands up from Patrick’s jeans, carelessly tugging the button-down shirt out so that he could drag his nails along the bare skin at the small of Patrick’s back. Patrick’s knees buckled at the sensation, just as David expected. He was playing dirty, pulling out all the stops to make Patrick lose his fucking mind. David clawed his way up Patrick’s back while Patrick nipped at his neck and frantically worked to unbutton his shirt.

“Get on your knees,” David mouthed against Patrick’s ear, chuckling at the desperate little moan Patrick couldn’t choke back. “Now,” he demanded, his voice low and rough. David struggled to bite back the grin as he felt Patrick shudder, loving that even when they were angry, he could still play Patrick’s body like a fiddle. He scratched his way further up Patrick’s back, rucking up that blue shirt, and brought his hands to Patrick’s shoulders. David nosed that spot behind his ear, licked along his neck, and gave just the slightest press with his hands, taking deliberate care _not _to manhandle the other man into position. The magnanimous part of his brain recognized that he was giving his fiancé an out, but let’s be real, David thought. He knew this would piss Patrick off more, and David wasn’t finished being angry yet.

With a whimper, Patrick sunk to his knees, pushing up David’s sweater and mouthing against the coarse hair on his belly. As Patrick tugged at the button of his tight jeans, David was suddenly too aware of their surroundings. After a quick inventory of the location, he shifted and turned his back to the door. The street was deserted, and from this angle, nothing would be _that _revealing, thanks to his long grey sweater. Probably. Fuck it. This was too delicious. He moved quickly, swatting Patrick’s hands away so that he could undo his fly, and pulled his jeans down just enough to release his dick.

“What do you want, Patrick?” David asked, voice husky, ghosting the head of his cock against Patrick’s mouth and smearing pre-come along his bottom lip. David groaned as Patrick licked his lips, looking up at him hungrily. Bless this filthy angel of a man who got off so hard on giving head. How did David get so lucky? Patrick’s tongue darted out to lick the slit, but David pulled back. “Use your words, Patrick.”

Patrick whined as he slid his hands up the back of David’s legs, under the sweater, and squeezed David’s ass cheeks. “Wanna taste you,” he gasped as he nuzzled his face into David’s pubic hair, “Need you in my mouth now.”

“Good boy,” David murmured, “now open.” And Patrick did, swallowing his entire length in one fluid motion. At first, David just let himself relax into the sensation as Patrick bobbed and slurped contentedly on his cock. For a moment, he thought about just letting it all go.

But. 

But _Patrick was wrong. _And he needed to learn his lesson.

David allowed himself to indulge for just a little longer, then grabbed hold of Patrick’s jaw so that he could pull his dick out of Patrick’s mouth. Well, in theory. When he realized what was happening the stubborn little fucker sucked so hard that David gave up and left his cock head in Patrick’s mouth.

“Are you ready to apologize for being such an asshole now?”

David smirked as he watched Patrick’s face journey, which was downright _comical _as it played out with his mouth around David’s dick. David could see the anger flare across Patrick’s lust-blown eyes, but he also knew his beautiful asshole was too far gone to stop now. He tested his theory, started pulling back, eliciting a frustrated, reedy whimper from his cock-hungry fiancé. David played dirty. Patrick’s eyes narrowed to slits as he looked up at David, dug his nails into his ass, and gobbled his cock back down. 

“Look at you,” David cooed, voice dripping with a fond condescension, “such an angry little cocksucker.” Grunting, Patrick took as much of David’s cock—more than he’d usually attempt—into his mouth as possible. Apparently a little spite fuck was all it took for Patrick to get the hang of deep-throating, David mused. But then he let himself get lost in the pleasure of Patrick’s mouth, let himself be overwhelmed by the wet heat, the rippling intensity as Patrick swallowed around him. He slid his hands through Patrick’s short hair, holding his head steady, and started fucking into his mouth. One, two, three thrusts and he was groaning, seeing stars. “Fuck, Patrick!” he shuddered as he flooded Patrick’s throat with his release.

Patrick continued to suck him through the aftershocks of his orgasm, aggressive suction soon giving way to delicate kisses and kitten licks as David’s cock softened. Patrick nuzzled his nose into the crease of David’s hip and sighed heavily. When he looked up at David, he was a mess of contradictions. Lingering anger still clouded his gooey, post-coital eyes, but his face was softer now, warmer. His arms were wrapped tightly around David’s ass. “That wasn’t fair,” he muttered, breaking eye contact and directing his words toward David’s dick instead.

All at once, David was very aware of their surroundings, and of the fact that his dick was still hanging out of his jeans. He wormed his way out of Patrick’s grasp and tucked himself in. He resisted the urge to laugh as he watched Patrick’s eyes widen when he realized what they’d just done, and where they’d done it. _He’s buffering_, David thought, fondly.

“Are you ready to talk about it?” David reached a hand out, a tiny olive branch, and waited for Patrick to make his next move. Patrick raked his eyes up and down David’s body before accepting that hand and rising to his feet.

“Talk about what?” Patrick squinted his eyes suspiciously. “The betrayal or the exhibitionism?” And, ok, the teasing lilt was back, the earlier edge softened almost to nothing. David let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Um, both?” David crooked an eyebrow and gave his fiancé a silly little shoulder shimmy before standing still and looking down. “Seriously?…um, I’d like to talk about…everything. I think we should clear the air,” his voice had softened to little more than a whisper, uncertain and searching. He glanced hesitantly at Patrick through his lashes, anxious to read the emotions on his face.

Patrick stood there, looking down at their interlaced hands, the barest hint of a smile on his face. That same delicate smile he’d had after their first kiss. The smile that let David know they were going to be ok. 

“OK, David. Let’s go home and talk.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @olivebranchesandredwine if you want to shout about SC or check out the Rosebudd server on discord.


End file.
